That's what bathrooms are for
by ChibyL
Summary: Fill for BlangstPromptOfTheDay: Blaine gets a stress nosebleed during an exam. He starts freaking out in the bathroom because there's so much blood and he's trying not to make a mess. Kurt finds him and helps him out.


**Fill for prompt-997: Blaine gets a stress nosebleed during an exam. He starts freaking out in the bathroom because there's so much blood and he's trying not to make a mess. Kurt finds him and helps him out.**

**My titles always suck, but this one is just ridiculous. **

**So, again, English isn't my first language, I'm sorry for all the mistakes I'm sure I made! **

**Enjoy!**

**That's what bathrooms are for**

Dalton Academy is hard. It is a matter of fact, everyone knows it and the simple fact that Blaine had been able to pull through two years there, is enough to make everyone believe that he is unfailing. It is hard to keep up with his standards but somehow Blaine always manages to.

When Blaine transferred to McKinley he thought it would have been easier for him. It is public school after all, he has already been there and he knows how it works. He remembers how he struggled at first to catch up with Dalton programs when he transferred there from Westerville High and that had nothing to do with the weeks he had been confined in the hospital.

It is simpler than that: private school is harder than public school, it is a matter of fact. That is why he thought it would have been easier at McKinley.

And it is, almost always. It's just- Why did he took Spanish in the first place? He never studied Spanish, nor at Westerville, nor at Dalton. Why now? Why couldn't he just take French again? He likes French. He understands French. But no, he had to choose the hardest way, as always.

_What an idiot_, he thinks, blaming himself as he struggles on the second page of his test.

He considers the idea of raising his eyes from his paper and give a look to someone else's, but no matter how much he needs help, he can't. It's cheating and he doesn't do cheating. So Blaine swallows hard and tries to concentrate.

He is so focused on the question that at first he misses the little red drop falling on the paper. It's when his hand slips on it that he notices. _Shit_, he has just ruined an official paper. This is his first thought. Then he realizes he is bleeding_. Shit_.

Blaine instantly keeps his free hand to his face, then he drops the pen and blindly searches in his backpack for his Kleenex. _It's nothing_, he tells himself. _It'll pass. Just try and focus on the question, you can do that_. He struggles for a couple of minutes, holding a tissue against his nose and trying to write without making any other mess.

He glances at the watch on his left wrist, he needs to wait forty-five minutes to get out of here. And that means that he only has forty-five minutes to finish, he really needs to hurry. Blaine turns the page and stares blankly at the new questions in front of him. Too much. They are just too long, too difficult. He can't do this.

Another drop runs through his fingers and lands on the paper and Blaine hurries to replace the soaked Kleenex with a new one.

" ," he calls, his voice shy and faint as if he is afraid to ask, "Can I- May I- I really need to-"

Will is in front of him in a second, his brow raised, a worried look on his face, "Are you okay, Blaine?"

He wishes he could say that he is fine and there is nothing to be worried of, but he can't; he is bleeding and he can't answer all the questions, he doesn't understand Spanish, no matter how hard he tries. _And he is bleeding_. "Bathroom," he finally whispers, standing up and running away, despite the teacher still trying to talk to him.

_Fuck_.

He heads to the bathroom, opening the door with his elbow and leaning heavily against the first sink he can reach. At this point he doesn't care to hold the Kleenex to his face, he lets all the blood run from his nose to the sink, staring at it as he tries to suppress a gag.

He forgot his Kleenex in class, next to his pen. How could he leave them there? How is he supposed to clean up now?

And seriously, Blaine is going to throw up if he sees another drop of blood hitting the sink. He closes his eyes, breathing in through his mouth, counting to three before letting it out. _You need to calm down, Blaine. You don't have time for this_.

_You don't have time_.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

"-aine! Blaine, calm down!"

He feels warm hands on his shoulders, hears someone calling his name, begging for him to open his eyes. But he can't. If he opens his eyes right now, he is going to throw up whatever he ate for breakfast. He doesn't want to, he doesn't have time to throw up. He doesn't have time to bleed to death in a bathroom, while he is supposed to be doing a test.

A fucking Spanish test. Because he was so stupid to apply to a Spanish course.

"Blaine, please. Just open your eyes. Please. Look at me. Tell me what's-"

"Class. Gotta go back to class," he spits out, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed and barely moving his jaw, his words almost unrecognizable, "Jus' too much blood, making a mess. It's everywhere. Clean. Need to cle-"

"No, Blaine. You just need to calm down. You are freaking me out," the voice tries again and when Blaine keeps mumbling something incoherent, the person who is trying to talk to him leans closer, shouting right in front of his face, "CALM DOWN, BLAINE!".

And all Blaine can think of is, "Kurt? Wha' are you doin' ere?"

Of course Kurt has to see him like this, to see how is fiancé is a failure, how he can't even do a damn test without making a mess.

"I needed to pee, Blaine, that's what I am doing here. That's what bathrooms are for. Got it? To pee, not to have a panic attack."

Carefully Blaine cracks his right eye open, silently begging for Kurt to help him. He is still bleeding, he can feel the warm blood on his clammy face, but Kurt is holding something against his face. Now that he is almost himself again, Blaine wonders when and how he ended up on the floor, with his back against the wall and his legs spread apart. That's quite embarrassing to be honest, but Blaine doesn't bother to care.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asks, still too close to him, invading his personal space and Blaine feels tears burning behind his eyes and starts an internal fight to hold them back, "Spanish test. Kurt, I'm going to fail it. I'm failing it."

Kurt gives him a faint smile, using his free hand to rub Blaine's shoulder, the other one still pressed against Blaine's almost purple nose, "You? You can't fail, ! Don't worry about it."

And why can't Kurt understand that he isn't perfect? He is failing. And the time is running and he is wasting it and he doesn't have time enough to finish is test and everyone is going to be so disappointed in him.

"No one is going to be disappointed, Blaine. And you are not going to fail, anyways. You can always ask to do it again. He will understand, I promise."

Blaine shakes his head, trying to calm down. "I can't ask him that, Kurt. I just- I just-"

Kurt sighs, "You are hyperventilating again. Blaine, calm down. If you just calm down, you'll realize that you have plenty of time to do your test right now. Got it? Just take a deep breath. Come on."

And Blaine does. He tries, at least.

"I made a mess."

"We already talked about this, Blaine. You can still-"

"I mean I have blood all over my shirt and there's blood in the sink. On my paper, too. How can I give it to ? I'm going to fail, Kurt."

Kurt gives him an incredulous look and Blaine feels bad knowing he is making Kurt worry, but he can't help it. He is everything but perfect and he is so scared right now. And he can't stop shaking and – oh God – is he still bleeding?

As if he is reading his mind, Kurt moves his hand away, checking Blaine's nose and Blaine is incredibly tired, so he just lets him do whatever he wants. If he stays still he will probably be absorbed by the floor and then he wouldn't have to worry about his test anymore.

"It's stopped," Kurt tells him, softly petting his hair, "Okay. Come on, you are going to thank me later."

Blaine feels Kurt's hands all over him, cleaning the mess on his face and buttoning up his sweater. There is a little of blood on it too, but it is red, so no one will notice, Kurt explains. "You don't have time to change right now, but I'll wait for you just outside your classroom and I'm going to take you home as soon as I can. Okay?"

Blaine weakly nods, his head too heavy to move more. How can he finish is test if he can't even keep his eyes open? Why can't Kurt see that he is just a failure?

"I'm lifting you up now, Blaine. Don't freak out," Kurt warns him, holding him by his armpits and pulling him up. Blaine's knees wobble, but Kurt holds him harder, until he is steady on his own feet. He barely has a chance to open his eyes, before Kurt helps him lean against the sink once again. The only difference is that it his clean white now. When did Kurt cleaned it? He probably blacked out for a moment, because he doesn't remember at all.

He is still mumbling about that when Kurt splashes cold, very cold, ice-cold water on his face.

"It's just to wake you up, Blaine. How is your head?"

"Hurts. But thanks," he replies, while Kurt hands him a towel.

How can he always have everything in that bag is a mystery to Blaine, but he is too much thankful to complain about it.

"Well, at least you are able to speak as a human being again. You are very pale, though. Are you sure you are okay? We can always ask-"

Blaine does his best to smile, even if his lips feel like glued and his whole face is sort of numb, "I'll be fine. Thank you, Kurt."

He has to lean on his boyfriend as they walk back to class. Every step comes easier to him and Blaine's mind his less fogged now, even if he is still shivering quite a bit and his eyes are still having problems focusing.

When they arrive in front of the Spanish class, Kurt silently hands him his Kleenex and Blaine takes them, even if he knows he has his own and he won't need them again. They are Kurt's, so if Kurt can't come in there with him, at least he wants to have something to remind him that his amazing boyfriend, his personal super hero is waiting just out there.

Kurt is still holding his wrists, afraid to let him go, in case Blaine is going to pass out or something, "You studied hard, Blaine. You even helped Sam study, remember? You can do that, I'm sure about it."

"But, what if-"

"But if you fail – because you are human, so it can happen. It won't, but it could – So, if it does happen, it's okay. Human, right? Just remember how to breathe and you'll do great."

"Thanks, Kurt."


End file.
